They Say Don't Look Back
by Jessah82
Summary: Shelly Nelson is leaving her shameful roots behind her for a degree in journalism and a "happily ever after" with her college professor. But her trip with him to the North Atlantic unexpectedly causes the supernatural collision of her life with that of a certain young Jack Dawson from a bygone era. What will Shelly learn about making it count from taking a look at the past?
1. Preface

**I'm baaaaaack my lovelies! With another story to raise hairs on the back of your necks.**

**Haha just kidding. I know I'm bad for super long author's notes, so I got the idea from one author I was reading to put my introductory stuff in a separate chapter. Brilliant, right?**

**Okay so this is an experimental piece I wanted to try for quite awhile, and have been planning for months. It's one of those weird ideas that hits you, and has you thinking it's either going to be brilliant, or really stupid So hey, we'll give it a shot, and see how it goes.**

**Ahh, short warning: some of you may find the subject matter during the flashbacks to Shelly's youth a bit disturbing. I'm trying not to go into sordid detail or anything, and my story's still rated T, but it does deal with some sensitive topics. **

**Btw, can't do things like this without a shout-out, of course =D First one goes to WogglebugLover. She just did a brilliant piece called "The Magic of the Music" starring Fabrizio and an OC, and hers is an excellent example of time-travel done right, in my opinion. I only hope I can do half as well.**

**Secondly, I know the majority of my readers were looking for another Tommyfic, and trust me, I'm NOT finished with Tommy Ryan. But until I get around to it (and I'm already plotting my next one), go check out "We Can Always Feel This Way" by scratchtheplans. EXCELLENT tribute to our dashing Tommy ^^**

**As with all my fanfiction, I try to follow the movie's plotline and dialogue to the letter when possible, only rearranging and creating room for my added OC. In that case I either add my own to what's already there, or let things alter as I see that my characters' presence might cause it to. For example, what we saw happen when Aimee stuck close to Tommy in "A Change of Tide" as the ship was sinking.**

**Soooo, what does this first chapter have to do with Titanic? Absolutely nothing! But patience, Darlings. If you don't read these bits right here, nothing'll make any sense later.**

**Okay, think I'm done prattling. So strap in and enjoy the ride! ^^**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just to cut down on confusion, all the stuff that takes place in Shelly's past will be done in italics.**

_It would be an understatement to say that life for five-year-old Shelly was a battlefield. _

_Food was always a chore to find. It usually meant climbing over a jungle gym of tabletops and counters to find the correct cabinets, and by the time the search was necessary, she was always too weak to do it efficiently._

_There was a bathtub, but Shelly had never been in it. Probably because it was always filled with a hot, grainy brown substance she didn't in any way want to touch. It wasn't long before Shelly had been able to link the awful looking stuff with the way her mom and her mom's boyfriend behaved while they were lying in filth on the living room floor. Sometimes there was a lot of raucous giggling and talk that didn't make sense, and other times the pair was as still as death, eyes focused on things Shelly couldn't see for herself. The beautiful, white teeth she'd seen in her mother's old photographs seemed to be falling out one by one, and the woman often had no idea who Shelly was. The young girl had learned long ago that talking was pointless when her mother got like that. It simply meant it was time to start hoarding up food, because she could only guess when she might be remembered again._

_Her mom's boyfriend Carl frightened her beyond words. He had often come into her room and fed her small amounts of the crusty brown stuff, causing her to feel frighteningly strange, and many times cause her to wake up later not remembering where she was or what had happened while she was "asleep." More often than not, she'd wake up feeling enormous amounts of pain._

_One day, Carl came into her room yet again, rousting her from her sleep. Shelly didn't want anymore of the brown stuff in her mouth, and for the first time, she managed to evade Carl's grasp and head for the door. As weak as she was from not having eaten in days, she was still a lot faster than the stinking, staggering monster who set off after her, running into random pieces of furniture and cursing people or objects Shelly couldn't see. _

_The woods behind the old camper they lived in seemed to be her best bet. She ran, part stumbling, into the thickest part of them, looking behind her every so often to make sure Carl wasn't there. It was then that Shelly realized she had run so far into the woods that she could no longer see the light from the florescent bulb hanging down from the tin awning. _

_Shelly stood for a long while, afraid of how far she had gone and what worse things might be waiting for her here. She didn't know how anyone would ever find her or who would even bother to look, but still, she sat down where she was, and waited._

_She fell in and out of sleep until daylight. It was a slender streak of sun that woke her as it rested its gentle warmth on Shelly's blonde, bowed head. Blinking her eyes and pulling herself up by pressing her hands against the tree behind her, she looked around. _

_Thankfully, the forest looked only half as scary as it had the night before, and even though she still had no idea how to get back home, she was more hopeful at least. Picking a random direction, Shelly began to walk. _

_As she walked along, carefully meandering through trees and stepping over fallen logs, she began to experience something very peculiar: a headache. She'd heard her mom and Carl mention them before, but she'd never had one herself. But now there was an undeniable throbbing in each of her temples that caused her to clench her teeth and squint against the random sunbeams that found their way through the trees. _

_It was when the pain was so severe she began to feel lightheaded, that she saw it: a small wooden house, perhaps even smaller than Carl's camper, off in the distance. As Shelly walked slowly and carefully forward to get a better look, she was able to see a stone fireplace. The first thing that came to her mind was a gingerbread house, perhaps because she was hungry, and then she recalled seeing little homes like this on the black and white TV in her mother's room. _

_As her headache strangely abated, there was a scent that wafted on the breeze toward her, one so heavenly it made both her eyes and mouth water. What could be cooking in that house that smelled so wonderful?_

"_Girl?"_

_Shelly jumped and scrambled around to the other side of the tree she was holding to. When she peered out again, she saw a boy who couldn't be much more than her age, a brown hat perched atop a tousled mess of brown hair. He wore clothes as ragged as hers almost, that looked to be a little too big for him. For every step he took forward, Shelly took one backward._

"_Hey Girl! Don't be scared," he called out to her. _

_Shelly wanted nothing more than to run away, but she found herself lingering, curious about the house in the woods and wondering if she might be given something to eat there. Finally she stopped taking steps back, and allowed the friendly boy to reach her. "John Henry Cushman, at yer service!" He held out a hand to her in greeting._

_Something about him had Shelly smiling for the first time in a long while._

_Just as she'd guessed, John Henry lived in the little house in the woods with both a mom and a dad, two older brothers, and a big sister. They didn't have a car, lights that turned on, or a sink for water to come out of; but there was plenty of good food that John Henry's mom and sister had spent all day cooking. She was welcomed immediately, fed, bathed, and put to bed on a warm feather mattress in what they called a "loft" with John Henry's sister, Carrie Beth. Even though she didn't know who these people were or why they lived a life so different from her own, Shelly felt as though she had stepped inside a very good dream, and wasn't at all ready to go back to the camper with the little lightbulb hanging outside. _

_Shelly decided that if the nice people would let her, she would stay awhile. _


	3. Chapter 2

_Sixteen years later..._

Shelly watched with a slight smile on her lips as Dr. Leif Bergstrom took a bite out of his apple and leaned against his messy makeshift desk.

"So, tell me someone," he began in his lilting Danish accent. "From examining _Titanic_'s hull, how can we establish that she'll be a hundred percent imploded by the year 2076?"

He scanned the small group of marine geology graduate students challengingly. There were about six of them, still wearing their blue jumpsuits from their underwater descent in the _Mir,_ and more than a few of them were massaging headache from their temples.

The ever-prepared brunette with the braid spoke up first. "Because when we measure the growth of the rusticles now against what they were during the expedition five years ago... also factoring in how much of the iron has been consumed with that growth, we get a clearer picture of how long the remainder of the ship will last. Mathematically, it leads to somewhere between 2060 and 2070."

The professor smiled. "Precisely. Now what I want you all to do for the rest of the evening is spend time figuring up what your estimates would be if the ship were both one mile deeper, or one mile closer to the surface. For now, we're dismissed."

Shelly busily jotted down the brunette's answer on the tablet in her hands, then continued to pretend to be occupied as she started scribbling and waiting for the serious-minded graduate students to file out.

They eventually did, heading down the narrow corridors of the _Vavilov_, probably to recover from their first official time inside a submersible. Shelly finally plopped the tablet down, giving a mischievous smile to Leif as he did the same, crossing the small conference room in a few slow strides.

"What would I do," he began, kissing her forehead, then her nose, "if you hadn't come?"

Shelly playfully shrugged. "Find another journalism undergrad to follow you around and write all about your little underwater excursions?"

"Ah," the professor grinned, resting his forehead against hers. "But you're not just any undergrad, are you?" He kissed her deeply.

Returning the kiss, Shelly had long stopped caring if anyone found out about their affair. But she knew Leif still worried about it, and was somewhat surprised he was being so lax in discretion right now.

The moment didn't last long, however, as the tall, blonde marine geology professor pulled away. "Did you record what I said earlier about the expansion joints?"

"Oh, I..." Shelly reached behind her and picked up the tablet, scanning over it. "... I didn't. What was it again?"

She felt Leif's disapproval as he studied her. "Shelly, this is important. I need you to record all this information so it'll be ready for you to write the narrative to turn into Nat Geo at the end of the expedition. I promised them I was bringing along a capable, efficient journalism student from the school to log our findings."

Shelly's cheeks burned. "I know, I just... sometimes you talk faster than you think, and then trying to keep up with your students' name and their input as well, " she retorted. Leif's lectures always did make her feel like a child.

"See, that's exactly why you need this experience, journalism takes a quick mind and a quick hand. I know you have both of those, but I need you to prove yourself. Remember what a big break I said this could be for you," he softened his tone, reaching down and lifting her chin with his finger. That's all he ever had to do to wrap Shelly back up in his spell and pull her back under.

She smiled. "I'll catch myself up tomorrow, I promise."

Kissing her forehead once more, he winked. "I'll count on it. Now I need to find the satellite phone to call Julia. You remember what I told you about what time to meet me in my berth tonight, and where to find it?"

Shelly nodded. "11:30, number 203 on Deck Two." She playfully popped his nose with the end of her pen. "How's that for a quick mind?"

"Alright then," Leif grinned before turning away from her.

She suppressed a sigh. Now was when she would stop being his everything, and become what her best friend called a "side dish" while he re-entered the world of his wife and kids.

_It's alright,_ Shelly told herself, turning to go find her own bunker she shared with a couple of the graduate students. _It's only temporary. When I graduate, we're skipping town, and I'll be his top priority from there on out. _It's what he'd always said, and she believed in Leif's honesty.

The _Akademik S. Vavilov_ was obviously not lain out to accommodate leisure passengers. She was a rather stern, unadorned ship with a couple of labs and conference rooms, a handful of berths with four bunks apiece, and a humble dining area. This was a research vessel, Leif had told her before they left. Not a cruise ship.

Leif had managed to secure his own room, of course, due to being the illustrious Dr. Leif Bergstrom, Ph.D, colleague to Dr. Robert Ballard, second hand to the latest expedition to the _Lusitania_. Not to forget professor of both marine biology and geology, plus geophysics at Northeastern University, which was where Shelly had first laid eyes on him.

Her adoptive parents had pushed for Brown at the very least, and Shelly had tried to be accepted there, she really had. Or at least that's what she had told them. The reality was, she wanted out and away. While they'd always given her almost anything she wanted, they had also spent the last fifteen years of her life parading her around Malden society, pressing the life onto her that they had hoped their deceased birth daughter would have lived.

So she opted for Northeastern's journalism program miles and miles away from home. Needing a science elective, she chose marine biology like her roommate had, and ended the semester with the perk of having caught Professor Bergstrom's stormy blue eyes.

It was why she was with him now as he brought his graduate students along on a deep sea excursion to see a one hundred year old ship, rotting away in the North Atlantic. She could care less about any of that, but it was time she could spend with Leif, and a great opportunity to showcase her journalism skills as she recorded their observations.

"DR. LEIF BERGSTROM TO LAB C, DR. BERGSTROM TO LAB C PLEASE!"

"Ah!" Shelly grabbed her ears as the overly loud PA system vibrated the walls of the corridor. She gritted her teeth and shook her head, looking around once more to figure out where she was. It was the third time she'd gotten lost today in a maze of hallways that looked identical to one another.

Hearing voices, she headed down the hallway to the left, finally coming upon what seemed like the right hallway. As she walked farther down, the voices became clearer and were unmistakably those of her roommates from the graduate program.

"What's she even doing here? She looks like a blonde bimbo to me. Do you see the way she tosses that hair?"

Shelly stopped abruptly before reaching the door, partially to listen, and partially because she was dumbstruck.

"She's probably screwing him, come on. You know how that goes."

The first voice chuckled, before launching into an imitation of what was evidently supposed to be Shelly: "Oooh, I get to go with Dr. Bergstrom to the middle of the ocean on a boat while he studies... uhh... big word things!"

Shelly found herself gritting her teeth again. This was her room alright. Unwilling to give the women any more time to sit and laugh at her expense, she entered with a big fake smile. "Hi, how was that big submarine ride? It is 'submarine,' right?"

Her roommates fell silent, doubtlessly realizing she'd heard them talking.

"... I could go for a Mountain Dew, you want anything?" one asked the other.

"No, thanks." This was the brunette who always answered Leif's answers correctly, but Shelly still didn't know her name. Of course at this point, why would she want to?

Grabbing her thick jacket, Shelly didn't bother staying in the room any longer than to put her notepad away. As cold as it was outside, she could deal with that a lot better than the arrogant roommates and claustrophobic hallways.

"Do you want to borrow my earmuffs?"

Shelly turned quickly, realizing the brunette was in fact addressing her. "... No, thank you, I'll pass," she replied with over-exaggerated politeness.

The other woman turned away quietly, and Shelly could tell her bluff had been called. Stepping out into the hall, she rolled her eyes and decided to find the deck herself, no matter how turned around she might get first. Feeling in her pocket to make sure she had her iPod, Shelly started off.

True to what she figured, she ended up lost in five minutes.

_Great_, she thought. _This _should_ be easy, considering all the decks are numbered one thru five, and all the hallways labeled..._

But of course it wasn't, and Shelly had no choice but to keep wandering through, eventually finding her way to something or somebody who could help with directions. The more she walked alone, the more she began thinking about how the other students aboard this ship felt about her... which eventually lead to a throbbing headache.

Or it least she figured that's what caused it. Whatever the reason anyway, she was soon not only lost, but irritated and in pain.

"Ow! Cut this _out_!" she snapped aloud to her aching head, hearing her own voice echo in the corridors. She stopped walking and bent over, hair falling down around her face as she tried a technique she'd heard her mom talk about. It had been years since she'd had a headache, or at least one like this. Maybe she was getting seasick.

After a few minutes of hanging her head upside down to allow for more bloodflow, Shelly sighed, standing back up. Nothing was helping.

_Cold water_, she thought suddenly. Even if it wouldn't help the actual headache, the very idea of splashing some of it onto her face soothed her. Besides, what luck. A lavatory was just down the hall, she could tell by the sign up ahead.

Shelly made her way slowly toward it, at this point afraid she might get sick if she walked quickly and jostled herself very much. Finally she reached the door and threw it open, barely realizing that the light was already on. Her vision slightly blurred from tears of pain, she caught sight of a sink and quickly made her way over, turning it on and bending to slosh some onto her face.

Taking deep, heavy breaths, she stood bent over for a moment, face inches from the sink. Then she blinked.

The headache was gone, just like that.

"Hm, that's weird," she said to herself. "Not that I'm not grateful."

Just then she stood back up to reach for a towel, and spotting the mirror above the sink, gave a shriek and jumped backwards, stumbling over her own feet.

Protectively covering her face with her hands, she slowly separated her fingers, peering out to see if her hallucination had gone.

It hadn't.

**And yes I totally am gonna leave you all in suspense as to who/what she sees! Not that we don't pretty well get the gist of what's happening, but stay tuned for specifics ^_~**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, I'd thought to try to post two chapters at a time, both a flashback and a current segment. But then I figured what they hey, I'm just gonna post them as I get them done. Here's the flashback for this next bit. **

_Shelly had no idea how long she had been staying with the Cushmans. All she knew was that her belly never hurt from hunger, the feather bed was the most comfortable thing she'd ever laid on in her life, and her hair now felt like silk when she touched it – due, no doubt, to the hours John Henry's mom and sister had spent brushing the tangles out of it. It had hurt, but it was well worth it when she looked at herself in the dingy "looking glass" the Cushmans called a mirror._

_"Ma" Cushman tried to ask her questions about where her home was, and who her mother and father were, but because Shelly didn't really know how to even start explaining, she just stayed quiet. The gentle woman didn't push her, but seemed to study her with a worried expression a lot. She came to Shelly at one point, holding up a pretty powder blue cotton dress to the girl. "This belonged to Carrie Beth when she was about your age. I suppose it'll do until I find time to take apart some of the old dresses of mine in the trunk and sew them into things for you."_

_Every now and then Shelly thought about her mother. When seeing her mother's face in her mind's eye, her face burned with shame.. What if, while she was out here in the woods having plenty to eat, Carl did something to hurt her like he had Shelly?_

I'll go back tomorrow_, she told herself each time, but the next day would come, and she couldn't bring herself to leave the wonderful place she'd found entirely by chance._

_Shelly's favorite part of the evenings, even over sleeping in the feather bed, was when John Henry's father would pull a stool over close to the fire, and sit down to play songs on his fiddle. Shelly had never encountered such a strange and wonderful instrument before, and stared wide-eyed the very first time Pa Cushman pulled out a long stick-like object and began a series of short, fast strokes across the strings. Without even realizing it, soon she found herself clapping along with the rhythm the older boys tapped out on the floorboards with their feet. It amazed her how the man deftly whipped the stick up, down, across the instrument so rapidly that she could hardly keep up with his movements. By the end of the first song, the man had noticed, smiling over at her. "Haven't you seen a fiddle before?"_

_Shelly shook her head, marveling over the fact that the strings hadn't been completely sawed in half. Tentatively she reached out her hand to touch them._

_"Would you like to try?" he handed her his stick._

_"Will I break it?"_

_"Nah, can't do much worse to it than young Micah did the first time he tried," the man replied, his broad chest heaving in a hearty laugh. One of John Henry's brothers flushed sheepishly as Shelly took the stick, giving it a good strike down the center of the fiddle. The sound that emitted from it caused her a tremor of delight._

_It was a moment she was never to forget as the haunting trill of a fiddle would follow her for years after, almost breaking her very heart._


	5. Chapter 4

**Okay, so I've decided once and for all that I'm not going to post a flashback chapter without a present-day chapter following it at the same time. I think it'll flow better for the reader, and what's more, ya'll won't be scratching your head saying, "Now wait, what was happening again? Besides, the flashback scenes are really sort of just intros for the present-day chapters, so it makes sense to post them two at a time. **

**And yes, I HAD to do me some Tommy Ryan cameo. It would just feel so wrong not to!**

**So anyway, since I kind of threw us offtrack with the flashback scene in between, let me remind you what was going on. Shelly went to the bathroom, washed her face, and became positively horrified at something. What was she horrified about...? ^_~**

... Then this meant it was no hallucination. She had actually gone into the men's room by accident.

Flushing red as a tomato, Shelly finally dropped her hands, avoiding eye contact with the blonde-haired young man who stood there staring at her with a bewildered look on his face.

"I am _so _sorry. I don't have my glasses on, and my head was pounding, so I thought I was going in the right door. I'll just go down-" she stopped once more, upon seeing that this was no ordinary bathroom. Two bunk bed sets lined each side of the wall, and there wasn't even one toilet. Shelly blinked a few times. She must've misread the restroom sign altogether.

Meanwhile, the guy was chuckling. "Uh, it's alright, I guess somebody could get a little messed up down here. But now that you're in, go ahead and use the sink as much as you like. Pretty amazing to have running water in steerage, isn't it?"

Shelly turned back to him quickly, staring incredulously before she began to take in the details. The young man was wearing a thin cotton shirt, overalls, plain twill pants, and scuffed shoes that he could only have gotten at a farm and tractor supply store somewhere.

He noticed her gaze, and looked down at himself, offering up an amused smile. "My pant legs aren't too short are they? These were my dad's, and I'm a little taller than he was."

Shelly's brow furrowed as she brought a hand back up to her head, even though she wasn't sure why. After the cool water on her face, her headache had never come back. "Oh," she finally gave a short laugh. "Nice cosplay, and no, I'd say you got it about right with the pants. So is this some kind of Titaniacs' convention or something?"

The young man peered to the side out the corners of his blue-green eyes, as though searching for how to reply to that.

"It's okay, you do your thing. I just didn't realize anybody was here but the research team. At any rate, thanks for the sink," Shelly turned to head back out the door.

She had only just gotten it closed behind her when she was rammed into by what felt to be a mobile brick wall. "Ow!" she reached for the wall to catch herself.

"Oi! Are yeh alright, Miss? I shouldna been talkin' and walkin' all at once, see what I do?" A broad-chested man with merry eyes reached out to set her aright. "That was downright brutish of me, are yeh sure yer okay?"

Shelly stared up at him as he seemed to be trying _not_ to stare at her bell-sleeve top and jeans. She didn't have the chance to reply before she started being pushed from behind this time by a large trunk being carried by two men of Latin appearance.

"_Mi dispiace," _one of them tipped his hat to her. That's when she noticed that behind him came a throng of similarly dressed young men, and a fair-haired couple who talked quietly to themselves in some language she couldn't place.

She turned back to the man in front of her. He looked the same way.

"... Convention. Right?" she almost begged him to confirm, thinking for the first time in years about that house behind the old camper...

"... I, em.." the man raised an eyebrow. "I don't rightly know." She could tell it was the best thing he could think of to say without understanding what she was talking about.

Shelly felt behind her for the knob of the door she had just come through and quickly turned it, backing over the threshold.

The boy she had been talking to earlier was now sitting on one of the lower bunks, taking something out of a small bag before he froze, staring up at her again.

Shelly slammed the door closed and reached for a lock, turning it. "Alright. Okay, okay, alright, I'm fine," she leaned against it, closing her eyes.

"... Ma'am, I don't mean to be in your business, but are you oka-"

"Shhh!" Shelly cut him off, eyes still closed as she did her deep breathing exercise.

The young man tolerated it in silence for a moment before he finally stood up. "Look, I'm sorry to say this, but I don't think you're well, and... " he cast a look at the locked door behind her. "With all due respect, I really don't know how I feel about you locking me in a room with you."

Shelly let out a moan. "They told me the meth could cause phantom 'trips' even years after."

He came over beside her, speaking in a kind voice, even if a bit nervous. "Why don't you let me walk you back to your room? Or at least find the people you're with,"

She turned her head to regard him as though replying, but still spoke more or less to herself. "The headache. See? I should have known, that kind of headache ought to warn me of what's coming. I just can't for the love of Mary understand why, when I'm on an acid trip, I don't discover some... psychedelic magical land of desserts like on movies. I keep coming back to meet all these old... people."

It must have come out more amusing than she'd meant, because the guy suddenly let out a laugh. "Sorry, I just... I'm trying to figure out how I'm coming across as that old. I've been called a lot of things..."

"Not _old_ old, just... no! I'm not talking to you, if I don't talk to you, you'll go away. That was my mistake the first time."

He seemed to be taking a deep breath, glancing around the room as though trying to figure out what to do with her. But that was okay, he was a figment of her imagination. What could he possibly affect her with?

"I tell you what, let's try this another way. Come over here and sit down, you look pale. I'll get you some water from the sink over here..." he gingerly placed a hand on her arm, watching her the whole time as though trying to gauge her reaction to physical touch.

She jumped when she felt his warm, dry hand on her arm, causing him to jump as well and take a step back, holding his hands up. "I swear, I'm just trying to help you."

Shelly wanted to pull her head out of this nonsense, to go find Leif and somehow persuade him to take her back home, as ridiculous of an expectation as that was. But suddenly she couldn't deny the fact that her mouth had dried up from her earlier fear, and water was something she could really use right now..

Phantom water could taste just like regular water, after all. She knew this from back when she was at that house...

"O-Okay..." she allowed him to put his hand on her again, leading her over to the bed.

"Can I at least open the door, Ma'am? Somebody could get the wrong idea..."

"No," Shelly shot out. "No, I-I'll get too overwhelmed. This is bad enough as it is. All those people... I just don't see how it's all so vivid!" she exclaimed smacking her forehead a bit.

The guy looked over at the door, seeming to be debating whether to take off or not. But finally, he looked back toward her and nodded, going over to the sink and taking a carefully placed cup from the small shelf. "They have everything on this ship, don't they?"

"... I know that's right," Shelly chuckled dryly.

He turned on the sink, filling the cup about halfway, then turned it back off and brought it over. Such a logical procession of activity, none of the herky jerky movements dreams often had. It had been that way the last time this had happened to her, too.

"Here," he handed her, then took a seat on the lower bunk across from hers, watching her for a moment.

Shelly drank the cool liquid down in seconds. "That," she set the cup down on the floor beside the bed, "was awesome. Thanks."

"Do you want more?"

"Not right now, but I might in a minute," she replied, giving him a brief smile. Oh well, if she was trapped inside this drug-induced sequence of events, she may as well make the most out of it until she snapped out of it.

"By the way, I'm Jack," he held out a hand to her. "Jack Dawson."

"... Jack Dawson, alright," she echoed wryly. "I'll try to remember. For the duration of this trip, you can call me Shelly."

"Quite a while to be on a boat, huh? But this is a lot nicer than anything I've ever been on before, so at least we'll be doing it in style," he grinned.

Shelly let the matter go, too weary to explain to him that she meant the drug trip, not the boat trip.

_Boat trip._

She paused for a second and sat up straighter. Of course they were on a boat, but he couldn't possibly be referring to the _Vavilov_, right? Just as she'd randomly "ventured" into the pioneer woods as a child, this state of mind must have a particular time period too. That much was clear by the clothes, and the outmoded sink against the wall.

"So!" She began, laying back on the bed and closing her eyes. "What ship is this, exactly?"

Jack hesitated for a moment, she could tell. Probably due to his constant bewilderment over her mental state. "Well, last time I checked, Shelly... by the way, I like that, it's different... we were on one _R.M.S. Titanic."_

"Oh, right," she murmured, feeling herself become sleepy all of a sudden. "That makes sense. It's what Leif was here to see, after all. Let's just hope I regain my senses before... what day is it again?."

"Uh, let me think," he paused. "April... eleventh, that's right."

"Hmm. Well then, sometime in the next three days," Shelly rolled onto her side, eyes still closed. Having had the headache, plus enduring the excitement from the last little while had well exhausted her. She was nearly asleep when he spoke again.

"Why three days?"

"Because in three days, this thing's going to sink."

If Jack replied to that statement, Shelly didn't hear it. She was fading into the best, most comfortable sleep she'd had since coming out to the North Atlantic.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: WOW, guys, just wow. **

**It's been months, I realize… and several very crazy months for me. But now I'm back, and I can only hope I'm not too rusty to be able to kind of pick up where I left off. I had thought to hang onto this chapter until I wrote one to go behind it, returning back to the ship… but I was so happy I'd just FINISHED one finally, that I thought it might inspire me to shoot out another one in a timely manner if I go ahead and publish this one. **

**I hope Shelly's childhood experience flashbacks aren't too boring to anyone. I just really need them in order to make her life and her current experience make sense for later. Enjoy, and I will be furiously typing away on the next chapter which is soon to follow!**

_Children have that remarkable way of adjusting, and Shelly was no exception. It wasn't long before she was unable to remember what it was like to feel hungry, and her downy soft hair bounced on her shoulders from being cleaned and brushed regularly. Her skin became sun-kissed from hours playing in the fresh air with the Cushman brothers, and her heart became glad._

_Sleeping with Carrie Beth every night, Shelly's dreams were mostly sweet and involved rolling meadows, rainbows, and the laughing Cushman boys. They were dreams devoid of fear or darkness all except for every few, when in the middle of some exhilarating adventure she would be overtaken by a very familiar, sickening smell. It was a smell that paralyzed her and caused her to be unable to run away from the shadow that began to cover everything. She didn't have to see his face in these nightmares to know Carl's presence. He was looking for her, she knew, and no matter what sweet cooings of comfort came from Carrie Beth in the middle of those terrifying nights, Shelly was afraid that one day he would find her._

_He was waiting for her at the camper with the lightbulb hanging by the back door._

_She tried not to think about him too much when she was awake, because even she was able to put together how this might bring him back to her during sleep that night. But thoughts of Carl, when they went far enough, always lead her back to somebody else whom she did miss: her mother. The image in Shelly's mind of the crumpled figure that lay on the couch last time she saw her nearly brought her to tears. Carl was doing bad things to Momma, too; surely that was why she never felt good. If only she could get away from him and come live with Shelly in this golden world she had discovered, they could spend their time playing together and being happy. Maybe Mrs. Cushman would even give Momma a feather bed like Carrie Beth had, and when she did, Shelly would sleep with her instead. She always wondered if, when Momma got away from Carl, her pretty teeth would come back in and she would look like she had in her old pictures when she smiled._

_It was that smile that was on Shelly's mind the night she went back the first time._

_The Green family had come to visit that evening with their passel of red-headed daughters and wagonload of musical instruments. It was explained to Shelly that it was custom for the Cushmans and Greens to make music together at least one night a month, way into the late hours. As the wagon came bouncing and pitching down the well-beaten path to the home, Shelly noticed an old man sitting in the back of the wagon in a big living room chair. When Mr. Cushman and Mr. Green went to unload the banjos and guitars, they unloaded the chair, too, with the old man riding along. Unsure what to think of him, Shelly had hidden behind Carrie Beth and watched the scene unfold before her. The Green family was welcomed warmly, and helped in setting up their instruments alongside Pa Cushman's fiddle and big bass._

_Shelly soon realized she couldn't hide for long, as the Green daughters soon found her and crowded around. They talked almost a mile a minute, asking her name and running their grimy little fingers through her silken blonde hair._

_"It's so pretty!" one of them remarked, grinning with one front tooth. "I'm Ruby. Who're you?"_

_"And I'm Alice!" an even littler one piped up._

_Pulling closer to Carrie Beth, Shelly shrank away from the curious eyes and petting hands._

_"There there," Carrie Beth soothed, then began making introductions between the youngsters. Shelly watched the Green girls warily, focusing on keeping them at a distance more than on what their names were. She wasn't used to having even the attention the Cushmans provided her, not to mention the enthusiastic prying of this new family._

_Once the music started, however, the children's focus drifted off Shelly and onto the clapping and dancing going on around them. Once she felt free to interact again without pulling too much attention onto her, Shelly mingled in and out of the group, watching with great interest as the old man in the chair produced a spirited melody from a little box he was holding to his lips._

_"That's a h'monica," Sam Cushman remarked to her, as though he knew what she was wondering._

_The night seemed to go by quickly on account of the music and dancing that wove Shelly up in its magic. At one point, she hadn't realized how close she had come to Pa Cushman and his fiddle until the burly, laughing man looked over at her with a twinkle in his eye. "This one's for Shelly!" he announced. "Old Zip Coon."_

_Even though she had never heard of such a song before, Shelly grinned as the first few brisk notes were struck. She sat down at Pa Cushman's feet and clapped along with Alice Green as she watched Pa's fiddle stick zip across the strings, mesmerized. Soon, far too soon for Shelly's liking, the song ended, and Pa put the fiddle down._

_"I bet I know what's next!" Mr. Greene called out, and all at once, the instruments seemed to slow down in tempo considerably._

_Pa Cushman stood up, smiling across to Ma as he took her in his arms affectionately. "That's right… this one's all yours, Darlin'."_

_Carrie Beth came over and sat next to Mrs. Greene, the both of singing in harmony to Mr. Green's mandolin tune._

Oh, where have you been,  
Billy Boy, Billy Boy?  
Oh, where have you been,  
Charming Billy?

_Ma Cushman beamed as she danced with her husband, the song appearing to be a favorite of hers._

I have been to seek a wife,  
She's the joy of my life,  
She's a young thing  
And cannot leave her mother.

_Shelly remained sitting as she listened to the words, feeling sad all of a sudden._

_But she had left her mother. When she went home again after being gone for so long, would her mother cry? Would she ask where Shelly had been? Because after all… even though she loved it so much here… she had never even considered not ever _ever_ going back._

Did she ask you to come in,  
Billy Boy, Billy Boy?  
Did she ask you to come in,  
Charming Billy?  
Yes, she asked me to come in,  
There's a dimple in her chin.  
She's a young thing  
And cannot leave her mother.

_After a bit, Shelly stood up, and began to make her way toward the woods. Looking back once, and seeing that no one had noticed for the moment, she picked up her pace. She would go back home to her mother tonight, and tell her all the wonderful things she'd experienced here at the Cushman home. Her mother would want to come back with her, as why would she ever choose staying with Carl in his camper over coming here to live with the Cushmans… and they'd return before anyone had ever missed her._

_It only took several yards into the dark woods, however, before Shelly began to wonder if it was a good idea to go through with this after all without one of the Cushman boys to help her know her way around. Any time she'd returned to the woods since the day she'd come here, she'd had one of them with her. Now, and in the dark, she would have to try to figure this out alone._

_She still heard the music for a good distance, and could tell the song had changed by now. Ma Cushman and Carrie Beth were singing, in perfect harmony and without the accompaniment of the instruments, "Lady of the Lea." The melody which they had sung before was a favorite of Shelly's, and it was suddenly all she could do not to run back toward that comforting sound. But telling herself she would have them sing it again for Mom when they returned together, she pressed on._

_It was all so very odd the way it happened._

_First came the crippling ache in Shelly's temples. She had to stop suddenly to keep from going dizzy… which was when all the leaf crunching and twig snapping underneath her feet had silenced enough for her to hear…._

_Nothing._

_The song had not only stopped earlier than it usually did, there was no other music taking up behind it. She couldn't even hear Pa Cushman's carrying baritone voice cutting in as it usually did during periods of silence in the evenings. It was almost like they had stopped making noise all at once, perhaps holding their breath… waiting for her to return._

_The scent of the woods seemed to have changed in those long moments of silence, and the air became thick and heavy, almost enough to choke her. Something felt strange, and almost wrong._

_Pushing against the headache and the feelings of fear welling up in her stomach, Shelly ran as fast as she could straight ahead, hoping that this was the direction that would take her back to the hanging lightbulb from her memory._


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: GUUUUYYYYYYSSSS, nobody told me I shifted POV in the middle of a sentence during the latter part of Chapter 4! Urg! I was reading back over it today, and cringed. It's all fixed now tho. Anyway, so here's another chapter… and I'm sincerely hoping somebody will review this time. It's been so long that, even though I'm inspired to write this, I'm having trouble feeling I've "bridged" everything I wrote before between what I'm writing now. And writing still feels a little stiff and unnatural =( If you're someone who read this before, but are sitting here now being like "Wow, she really sucks these days," please gimme a few more chapters to make it up to you! I'm still trying to find my mojo!**

**I'm trying to focus not so much on making everything perfect, but instead just writing what I feel like writing. I think it's the fact that I did that with A Change of Tide that made it turn out decently. Usually I've noticed that with writing, it very much shows if you're trying too hard. So it's like, I AM trying, but I'm not =P Yeah, whatever. Anyhow, again, I do realize it's slightly more complicated than your run-of-the-mill fanfiction, which may be a turn off to some people. Fanfiction is usually something you want to read when you don't' really want to think hard, or have to wait a long time to get to a point. So I say all that to say… if this story isn't as well received, I can understand why. But I still feel a burning necessity to write it.**

Shelly woke up still feeling the gentle hum of engines underneath her. However it was a feeling of discomfort in her left cheek that caused her to open her eyes.

When she awoke, she looked over and saw Jack sitting on the bed across from her still, only now he held a leather-bound book in his hands, scrawling something on its pages with deep focus. He looked back up at her then, and smiled. "Oh, you're awake."

Before replying, Shelly reached up to touch her cheek, and felt an indention there. Looking down, she realized what had caused it: she had been laying her face on her right hand, which had…

Jack chuckled. "I think it was your ring," he pointed his pencil. "It looked pretty uncomfortable to me, too, but I didn't want to wake you to tell you to move your hand."

"Oh… yeah," Shelly placed her thumb over the inner part of the band of the ring Leif had given her, trying to straighten it. Then she peered around. "… I see this one might take awhile to get over." She cringed at the notion that, while she was in the throes of communication with this hallucinated guy, her mean-spirited roommates were crowded around her huddled form in the _Valivov_ lavatory, giggling. Worse still, what if Leif were there, trying to wake her up, but couldn't?

The good humor seemed to leave Jack's eyes for a moment as his brow furrowed. "… I still think you've hit your head."

"No, I haven't hit my head," she retorted in irritation. "This is… there's no sense in…" the idea that she was likely talking herself right now silenced her again. Better to be in a drooling trance than to be a blathering idiot in front of any audience who might be watching her in the real world.

Jack set his leather-bound volume to the side with the pencil, and stood up. "Probably the best thing we could do right now is go find this Leif guy you kept mentioning. Is he your husband?"

_Oh, don't I wish_.

"He's… no, but—"

Reaching out a hand to help her stand, Jack smirked a bit. "Let me ask it a different way, then. Is he… the man you boarded this ship with?"

Before she could even think, Shelly took his hand in order to be able to stand. Once again, its solidity surprised her. "… Not this ship. Of course, the ship I boarded with him has a lot _to do_ with this ship…"

As Jack helped her stand, he patted her shoulder and pressed his lips together in something of a sympathetic smile, raising a brow. "… Right. I think we just need to find where you go, because somebody's worried about you right now, I'm sure. Let's go see if we can find Leif."

Shelly chuckled briefly. "Leif would give anything to be on this ship, he's read all about it. Provided he could get off in time…"

"Ah, that's right, we're supposed to be sinking?" Jack spoke in a lighthearted, albeit distracted voice as he pulled the door of his cabin open. "You mentioned something about that before you fell asleep. Oh and be prepared for some stares. This is one of the single men's berths. Married couples… even though you said you're not married to the guy, are down this way I think…"

"… It's true," she replied just for the sake of it as she let him lead her out, not so concerned with convincing her own imagination. "This is the _Titanic_. You know?"

"I bet he's in the smoking room," Jack started walking more slowly for her sake, still holding onto her hand. "Or at least somebody there might know him. What's his last name?"

Her chuckling began to spill forth profusely now, as she looked over the corridor and the people passing them. "This is so insane…"

"It's okay, we're going to get you help," Jack continued, pausing to look back at her.

Shelly shook her head, convulsing in giggles. "If only you could…"

Plenty of people were pausing to stare back at her, but she only marveled at how realistic all their obsolete details were, and waved ecstatically at each of them as they passed. "Oh, um… his last name?" She remembered Jack's last question, and decided to play along. There was something about this that was so deliciously fun, even if it was an illusion. "Bergstrom. Dr. Leif Bergstrom, Ph.D. Let's see, he teaches geophysics," she began rattling off, in a mock serious Danish accent, just as Leif himself might, "marine biology… marine geology… um, also an expert in how to seduce an underclassman nobody…"

Jack was smiling now and nodding to everyone they passed, obviously trying extra hard to be nonchalant, despite the words spewing forth from Shelly's mouth. "Quite an accomplished fellow. Okay, here we are." He pulled her into a relatively large room, enameled white with pine frame, which had that unmistakable "new" smell intermingled with that of various types of cigars. Shelly was particularly drawn to one bright poster on the wall, advertising in large letters for White Star.

"Come on, you can look around later," Jack pulled her gently away. "Women don't usually come to the smoking room, so we oughta be quick."

She turned to follow him as he blazed a path for them through a host of loud-talking, sweaty, smoking men. One gentleman with a handlebar mustache yelled loud words in German, followed by a guffaw, which displayed a mouthful of brown tobacco juice. Shelly wrinkled her nose and turned away.

"Yes, do you know of a Leif Bergstrom? Dr. Leif Bergstrom?" Jack was inquiring of various people.

"… No, that sounds like somebody you'd find in second class at least, why d'you think a doctor would be found down here?" somebody heckled.

"…. Well," Jack looked back at Shelly, no doubt studying her clothes. "… I just think… I think she goes down here with us," he spoke carefully, lowering his voice.

"Oh, right," Shelly made it up alongside him. "Women wearing pants in proper society, right? Isn't that a thing you all have?"

One man knelt down beside her pants. "Sorry to be forward, but this cloth… it's right smart!," he exclaimed in a cockney British accent, running a finger down the side of her knee in wander. "It's a swell strain of that denim material, to be true—"

Shelly simply stood still and marveled at the man, looking up in surprise when Jack reached down and pushed the man's hand away firmly. "Hey, excuse me. This is a lady."

The tall, lanky fellow stood quickly, tipping his hat to her. "Yes, I'm sorry for that, Love. Come from a long line of tailors, I do, and always smitten by a bit of fancy cotton."

"Dr. Bergstrom?" Shelly turned from him to see Jack addressing a man who was certainly not Leif.

"Ah, not me," the man shouted over the din of the room. "Thought you said Douglas Bertram."

Shelly shook her head. She was just about to walk entirely from the room and continue to wander around this fantasyland when suddenly her eye caught something.

It was a certain hat, perched a certain way on the head of a burly man; his mannerisms were just so, his stance was unmistakable. Suddenly Shelly began to wonder if she'd found them again after all these years…

Before her logic could correct her, she rushed over and placed a hand on the man's arm. He turned to look at her, and that's where the likeness ended between this man and Pa Cushman.

"…Oh. I'm… I'm sorry, Sir," she mumbled, flushing. It wasn't the flush of embarrassment, but the flush of frustration; of having one's heart depleted quite suddenly of built up anticipation.

The man smiled briefly, before glancing over her clothing, and turning back to his conversation.

Stumbling backwards, Shelly found a wall, and began to lean back against it, sinking to the floor.

She knew what she'd been told by the social worker, and by all the doctors about the Cushmans. The entire family, their home, everything about her time with them… it had all been in her head. It was nothing more than an elaborate world created by a lonely, malnourished little girl with traces of LSD in her system. They had patiently repeated the explanation again and again to her, anytime she brought up the many unanswered questions she had about how she knew enough at that age to even concoct such a fantasy.

_The mind is a strange thing, and we're far from understanding every aspect of it_, they'd said. As for the object she'd found that fateful night they'd come for her, there was a simple answer there, too. She'd tried so hard for awhile not to accept what they'd said, but then Shelly finally forgot all about the Cushmans, settling into her new adoptive home.

But the man she'd just seen had reminded her so fervently of Pa Cushman, whom she'd not thought of in years, that it all came crashing back down suddenly. Real or not… had they not been a source of comfort to her? Had their presence not kept her from having to endure endless misery at the hand of her mom's boyfriend? Could she now, if that man _had_ been Pa Cushman, stand there in the face of the very embodiment of comfort for her and tell him she didn't believe he had ever been real?

"Something's wrong with me," she murmured, closing her eyes and pressing her hands to them. "…But what if I was right the first time? What if all this is really happening somehow… somewhere?"

The voices went on around her, as strong as ever, and the now-nauseating smell of smoke hung over her head. She felt the hard cold floor beneath her, and as she opened her eyes slightly, could see the nuances in the dark colored boards.

Who, in their wildest hallucination, could come up with all this?

"Shelly!"

She jumped as Jack was next to her again, sitting down beside her on the floor. "I'm so sorry, I've been all through here, and nobody seems to know who this guy is. Do you think it's possible… if I take you someplace quiet again, that we could sit and figure this out? I need to know what you remember, which class you might be from. Because I'm thinking I was wrong… it can't be third."

He reached up a hand to quickly toss back the hair that had fallen across his forehead, then continued to watch her carefully. "I'm afraid you're hurt somehow, or… maybe sick with something… and I just really don't want you to be by yourself until we find your people. What kind of guy would I be if I didn't at least try to help, right?"

Shelly studied his features for a moment, and realized that they were evidently natural and detailed enough to cause a slight flush to rise to her cheeks before she turned away. "Jack… you're not going to find Leif anywhere on this ship. Take me back to your room… and I'll tell you what I think is happening, if you'll promise to listen."


	8. Chapter 7

_The smell of filth mingled with grease that met her at the backdoor almost made Shelly want to turn and race back to the woods – back to Carrie Beth, back to the Greens, back to the fiddle strings._

_But it was too late. Her mother had peered around from where she was standing at the gas stove, and stared out at her from behind stringy hair._

_"Bout time you came inside, it's dark out there. Come on, here's supper. Well, get over here!"_

_Shelly found herself shuffling toward the card table in the corner of the kitchen, covered with rotten half-eaten TV dinner trays and cigarette butts. She reached out to tentatively move one out of the way, when her mother interrupted the action by setting a pot down in front of her with a clunk._

_"Yellow rice, Baby. Aint that your favorite? Come on, eat up! Save Carl some, though."_

_Shelly stared at her mother for a moment, feeling a sense of otherworldliness._

_"EAT IT! Jesus, what do you think I made it for?!"_

_Nearly jumping out of her skin from the harsh noise of her mother's voice, which she hadn't heard in a really long time, Shelly reached a hand in the pot and began shoveling yellow rice into her mouth. It was hard and tasteless, and she wasn't hungry… but she ate it._

_Her mother stood and watched her with glazed eyes until she had crunched through three handfuls of the uncooked rice soaked in water from the tap. Just when Shelly thought she would gag if she ate any more, her mom turned to shuffle away, muttering absently, "Now get back in the bed."_

_A sense of hopelessness overcame Shelly as she watched her mother slowly walk back into the living room to drop down onto the sofa to sleep, and suddenly she couldn't remember why she had wanted to come back here. It had something to do with a song she had heard on a fiddle…_

_But now, she wasn't scared – of Carl, or anything else. Because she knew there was another place for her, a place where she could eat good food, be looked at nicely, and have other children to play with. She would go back there – it had only been a few minutes. Maybe Carrie Beth and Ma never even realized she left. And this time when she went, she would never come back here. Not even for Momma._

_Jumping up so quickly she knocked over her chair, Shelly shot out the back door. She would find her way back to Ma, Carrie Beth, and the rest of the family who had been so good to her. If she found them once, she could find them again._

_Shelly started out in a run, but after a while, the thick trees and the darkness of the night forced her into a walk. She listened for music, for cheerful voices, for any sign of the Cushman home. But she saw and heard nothing but trees and fog in any direction she looked._

_For the longest time she wandered in the woods. Thinking for a while she had just gone the wrong way, she would turn in different directions, each time only circling around until she was back in her own yard. The last time she ventured out, she went so far in one direction she could no longer see the light bulb on Momma's back porch._

_Finally having to stop for awhile because she was exhausted, Shelly leaned against a tree, her hand resting against the rough bark. Gasping suddenly in excitement, she jumped back up. She found the big oak tree finally! It was the one Sam had carved a hole in to hide a glass jar he kept his special things in – that only Shelly knew about. She knew it by the way the wood felt different where it covered the hollowed out part. Just to be sure, she started scratching and pulling at the bark covering, remembering that Sam always had to do this for her._

_"I'm the only one who can move it!" he'd exclaimed with a grin the first time she'd tried. "Did it that way for a reason, so folks don't come nosin' where they don't belong._

_This time, however, it gave easily, crumbling inward like something rotten. Shelly's brow furrowed as she slowly reached into the hollow, afraid for what her hand might brush against in the darkness. But after grasping for a moment, it found nothing at all – not even a glass jar._

_She pulled her hand back out, wiping it on her pants. That didn't matter anyway – she had found her home again! The cabin would be just a little further, around the next curve of trees._

_Only it wasn't._

_Shelly stood for a long time, just staring. In the moonlight that suddenly broke through the space without trees, she saw nothing at all – no lights, no horses, and no cabin with the oil lamp by the window, as Ma Cushman had always kept burning at night. Only a bunch of old wood that looked like it maybe used to be a house._

_Her heart sank for a moment as she realized she must have made a mistake about the big oak tree and where she was. But she wasn't going to give up, because she knew as surely as anything the Cushmans would be waiting for her to come back._

_So tired by now she was breathing heavily, Shelly pushed on past the old wooden foundation. She walked another long time, finding nothing but more trees and less moonlight. After awhile, her determination wore thin, her heart felt heavy, and fear of the dark and the noises this deep in the woods began to set in. Following closely behind were the tears._

_It hadn't been this far before, she was sure, and it hadn't taken this long. Where was she, and how would they find her? What would she do if they didn't? Where were they? Wouldn't Pa and Sam come be out looking for her?_

_Exhausted, Shelly couldn't take another step. She sat down where she was, curled into a ball with her head against the base of a tree, and fell into a fitful sleep before she even had time to do more crying. She dreamt of fiddle music, but every time she woke up to try to find where it was coming from, the air around her was silent._

_She slept for hours and hours and maybe could have kept sleeping on past when the daylight began to break through the trees. But that's when the hunter found her with his big, loud dogs._

_And she never saw Sam or Carrie Beth again._


End file.
